Sympathies
by If I were you I'd kill m
Summary: When Mike is driven to a suicide attempt, Brian's life is thrown into dissarray.
1. Teaser

QAF Fanfictional Series  
  
* As always, the characters belong to their creators, and not to me... Regretfully...*  
  
Sympathies  
  
"He really needs his friends right now..." His voice was struck with hurt and disbelief. Justin Taylor, age nineteen, sat with clamy hands upon Brian's countertop. The latter shrugged while adjusting his shirt in the mirror, tilting his head back and forth as if admiring his own beauty.  
  
"If he's expecting sympathy from me," Brian turned, whirling his keys on a finger." Then he is direly mistaken." He punctuated this dramatically, as he headed towards the door, sliding it open.  
  
" ...How can you be such a jerk?! Mike's dying, in case you haven't taken any notice!" Blonde tassels fluttered across a detached, blank, yet strangely enraged visage. Brian paused, forehead resting against the loft door for a moment before, silently, he stepped out, slamming the door shut behind him. Justin dropped his arms, defeated.   
  
"You're right," He muttered to himself, " He's stupid for expecting anything from Mr. Brian Kinney.." With a heavy heart, he grabbed his backpack and headed out of the loft, making his way, briskly, to Allegheney General.  
  
***  
  
" Bri...? We'll always be together, right?"  
  
" 'Course, Mikey!" Brian tousled his hair. " We're inseparable. Like MungoJerrie and RumpleTeaser." He smiled down at the other affectionately." And there's nothing at all to be done about that." He sang this matter-of-factually, passing the joint he was smoking in Mike's direction. Mike placed a hand gently on the other's chest, responding with a slight lilt in his voice, " You're right..." A beat. " I love you, Brian."  
  
Of course, Brian wasn't taken aback. These were teenage years, carefree, without the strain and stress of responsibility. He pulled Michael against him, a light smile playing across his lips.  
  
"Right back at you."  
  
***  
  
The sounds of beeps and blips were almost deafening. Wild Red locks plastered themselves upon a haggard face that gazed off down the tortuous corridors of the hallway. Deb looked down at the coffee shifting uneasily within her shaking hands. Absently, she was pondering pillaging some more of Brian's Chronic in an attempt to calm her rising anxiousness. But of course, that Deb was gone with the 60's.  
  
In the arms of the angel  
  
Fly away from here...  
  
" Can't they play less depressing music at these fuckin' places?"  
  
" Would you just calm down? They said he was alright." Vic sighed into his palm. She'd been holding that cup of coffee for at least an hour now. And nothing was worse then a mouth of lukewarm coffee.  
  
" Alright?! No kid of mine who gets it in his head to end his fuckin' life is alright!" A quick pause, and her head lowered into her ample bosom as she muttered a supplementary, " Stupid."  
  
" Mike is just under a lot of stress, an-"  
  
"Don't start feeding me that bullshit." She threw down her cup in a moment of irrationality, before regaining her composure, and turning to face Vic. " I just didn't see it coming, ya know? I talk to him everyday, three times a day." She sat down heavily in her chair, looking down at the amber liquid slowly spreading across the speckled linoleum. " Hell..."   
  
Vic gave her a gentle smile, placing his arm over her shoulders. " Don't worry, Deb. They have custodians for just these kinds of things."  
  
The mass of Red hair lifted up, just enough so tear specked hues could meet the other's. " I just hope he's still Mike in there..." Her hand rose to place itself over Vic's. " I hope to God he's still in there..." There was nothing left to be said. Vic turned in his chair and embraced her and her arms tightened about him in return, as she gazed off down the tortuous corridors.  
  
***  
  
  
  
?? 


	2. Complex: Insensitive

Sympathies  
  
Chapter 1  
  
As always, the characters belong to their creators and not to me... Regretfully...  
  
(Side note: Flashback sequences are denoted with single Asterisks.)  
  
***  
  
  
  
Emmitt swallowed down the rest of his cosmo, before gazing past the expanse of lights, fog, and wet, writhing bodies on the dance floor. The music was hot, the guys were hotter... and he was miserable. His vision was gray about the edges, and he was forced to lean heavily on Ted to keep himself upright.  
  
" That was your fifth one tonight. Are you aiming to get sloshed?"  
  
Emmitt was quiet for a moment, before sucking his teeth. " I don't know. I just feel like we shouldn't be here."  
  
Ted looked up at the taller boy. " You're still thinking about Mike, aren't you?" Silence. " Look, there's nothing else we can do. We were there all day. The best we can do now is to just wait and see what happens."  
  
"I feel like we're not doing enough." Emmitt looked around the place, gesturing with his newly acquired sixth cosmo. " It's kind of hard to enjoy these gorgeous, GORGEOUS men when you're friend's world is falling to itsy bitsy pieces." He took a long swallow Ted only looked at him, swirling his rum and coke in his glass, as the guys continued to dance and sweat around him.  
  
"Brian never showed up..."  
  
"And this surprises you?" Emmitt's glass was empty again. " Brian doesn't care about anyone but himself."  
  
"Well that's just not true." As if on cue, there he was, Brian Kinney, with his arms around Emmitt's waist, and his breath against his ear. " I care about... well, you know, you're right. I DO only care about myself." He gave a little smirk before standing in front of the two.  
  
" Honesty is the best policy." Ted mused, sipping at his rum and coke.  
  
"You know me. Mr. Up-front-and-honest."  
  
Emmitt rolled his eyes. " We were waiting for you all day! Didn't Justin tell you what happened?!"  
  
" Yea, he did." Brian pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a long drag. " And I don't care."  
  
"How can you not care? He's your best fucking friend!"  
  
" Don't get your panties in a bunch." Brian's body was pulsing in time with the music, as he took another drag of his smoke. " Besides, friends don't break promises to each other."  
  
Ted was silent. What could he say? An already enraged Emmitt was burning Brian enough already.  
  
"If you're abandoning him over something so trivial as-"  
  
" If you're going to sit here and make me look the fucking scumbag, then you better stop right now." He stopped to take a breath. It was as if he had to force the words to come. " If Mike wants to be a stupid fuck, let him. But I'm not going to hold his hand and tell him everything's gonna be alright, because ya know what? It won't be." A drag.  
  
Emmitt's eyes were ablaze. With his arms crossed tightly across his chest, he took a moment to think, before, " It was people abandoning him that drove him to do it in the first place." He attacked Brian with a glare proportional to his seething rage, before pushing his way through the entanglement of limbs, out of sight. Ted slurped down the rest of his rum and coke, putting a hand on a thoughtful Brian's shoulder.  
  
"He's right, you know." He looked down, as if formulating the words, before giving Brian a wan smile. " Visiting hours are over in forty minutes. Just think about it. Mike needs his friends right now." And then Ted was gone, lost amidst the cries of the Babylon's populous.  
  
*He needs his friends right now*... Brian remembered Justin saying before he left the loft.  
  
"Shit..." He mumbled, suddenly feeling like a 'fucking scumbag'. He brushed it off, taking a drag of his cigarette, before joining the rest of the undulating mass of bodies.  
  
***   
  
He'd been counting the little dots on the ceiling for at least twenty minutes. His head swam, but worse than that was the shifting nausea within his stomach. He'd never had his stomach pumped before, and found the after effects to be quite displeasing. The mechanical tinker and bleeps of hospital machinery sounded perpetually aside of him, and with the rising pain in his head, he wished them silent.  
  
Mike sat up, glancing momentarily at the IV stuck into the backside of his hand. It was taped down, emitting a dull throb. He didn't know what day it was, or how he had come to be in such a place. All he remembered was-  
  
***   
  
*The TV cast blue-white light across his blank, unmoving face. His arms wrapped about himself, knees tucked firmly into his chest.  
  
"Mike?" A voice called from behind him, but he didn't answer. He kept seeing 'closed forever' on the door of his comic book store. He kept seeing Ben, his HIV positive lover, injecting himself with something; steroids, he assumed...  
  
"Mike, you okay?" Mike's world came into focus, and there was Ben, kneeling in front of him.  
  
"Go away." Mike managed to mutter, before turning himself away from the other. A firm hand grabbed his shoulder.  
  
"I know you're upset that the comic book store is closed, but we still have two weeks to come up with the money. Things'll be alright..."  
  
"How can you know that?" He spoke softly, keeping his body stiff to the other's touch, eyes unblinking and gazing off into space.  
  
"...I don't, but lying around like this isn't going to change anything." And just as Ben grabbed his gym bag, Mike sat up, clutching the arm of the couch.  
  
"What do you want me to do? Huh?! I have NOTHING!"  
  
Ben stared at him in silence, the strap of his gym bag sliding down his arm. " You have me..."  
  
Mike was on his feet quick-as-a-bunny. His face was red, eyes darkened with uncertainty, hurt,... distrust, even. " For how long, Ben?! Until some stupid fucking COLD takes you away from me?! Or until you drop dead from taking your fucking steroids?!"  
  
Ben swallowed heavily, defensively pulling the strap of his gym back over his shoulder. "How did you-"  
  
"How did I know? How couldn't I?! You're killing yourself, you know that?! It's like you're a whole different person, and I hate it!" He was yelling. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes; tears of frustration.  
  
Ben's stare was vacant. He took a breath, an unsteady hand reaching out for Mike's. " You don't understand..."  
  
"Understand what?!" Mike pulled away just as his voice cracked, and the first of what would be hundreds of tears trickled down his cheeks.  
  
"What it's like to be positive. What it's like to live every single day, wondering how long you have left unti-"  
  
" I DO worry about it everyday.." Mike looked up, and the look on his face, one of pure helplessness, produced a wince from the other.  
  
"The steroids are saving me.."  
  
"They're KILLING you!" He remembered coming home, throwing his stuff down, going into the bathroom... and finding Ben slumped over in the shower...  
  
Ben wasn't able to withstand any further condemnations. Without another word, he turned, walking quickly to the door.  
  
"Ben!" The door slammed, and Mike was alone. Ben didn't come home that night. Or the next one. And Mike finally believed that he had lost everything.*  
  
***   
  
"No one answered the door when I got there." Justin lay his backpack on the floor, opening it and digging through it as he spoke. " I must've waited ten minutes, before I tried the door." Deb and Vic listened silently, while nurses skittered by, and doctors were continuously paged over the intercom. " Lucky for Mike, it was open. I found him lying there on the floor. I called an ambulance. They said he took a hell of a lot of sleeping pills." He pulled out a small portfolio, and sat it on his lap.  
  
Deb shook her head. " I don't know what he was thinking..." Then, "Thanks for being here for him, Sunshine." She directed a weak attempt of a smile towards him.  
  
"It's not like I was going to let him die... He's alright, isn't he?"  
  
"If you're asking is he's dead, the answer is no. As for being alright..." He trailed off, looking down at his hands thoughtfully.  
  
Justin looked back and forth between the two. Deb's face seemed sunken in somehow, fiery curls limp aside drooping eyes. She was pale, haggard... As if someone had taken a futuristic vacuum and sucked the life out of her.  
  
"Maybe you two should go get some rest. I'll stay here tonight."  
  
Deb shook her head. "I can't leave him now-"  
  
" You want to give him a piece of your mind tomorrow, don't you?" Vic interrupted, standing with a stretch, before extending his arm to her. " You'll need your beauty sleep."  
  
Deb sighed in resignation. " Alright, alright..." She stood with Vic's help, and they headed towards the door. She paused as the automatic doors slid opened, looking back at the blonde with sad, glistening eyes. " Hey Sunshine?"  
  
Justin had been looking through his portfolio and looked up at Deb's recitation of his little pet-name. "Yea?"  
  
"Make sure he's alright."  
  
Justin replied with a soft smile, and a slight nod of his head. Deb, appeased, reclaimed Vic's arm, and the two of them disappeared from beneath the florescent lights that buzzed incessantly above, into a veil of shadows cast about by moonlight.  
  
***   
  
* "I read about it in the paper yesterday."  
  
"About what?" Brian was doing his best to devour an entire bag of chips, whilst flipping ceaselessly through the limited channels on Mike's TV.  
  
"Jason McKready killed himself. Shot himself in the head."  
  
"The poor guy maybe I'll send his mother a card." He continued flipping though the channels. " Don't you have anything good?"  
  
Mike, with a roll of his eyes, threw himself on Brian's lap, pointing dramatically at the newspaper article. " I just saw him in school two days ago... Sure, I never really talked to him that much, but-"  
  
"Then why worry about it?" A beat. " You're blocking the TV."  
  
Mike ignored that, straddling the other boy, and putting his hands on his chest. " Because it happened."  
  
"It didn't happen to you."  
  
"But it could."  
  
Brian coughed on some chips, and Mike was surprised by the reaction; by the way Brian's hands slipped protectively around his waist; by the way obscure eyes looked deep into him with such ferocity...  
  
"And it won't!" Mike responded quickly, in an attempt to assuage this sudden protectiveness. " Awe, I didn't know you loved me so much." He fluttered his eyelids with a giant grin.  
  
Brian wasn't amused. "Don't joke like that."  
  
Mike blinked despite himself. Brian honestly seemed nervous; scared, even. His body was tense, his eyes piercing... "I....I'm sorry..." He stammered. Brian cradled his head, placing it on his shoulder.  
  
"I wouldn't want to lose my Mikey over something stupid."  
  
Mike could feel his cheeks turning red; he could feel his body responding warmly to Brian's fingertips in his hair; he could feel his heart pounding and absently wondered if Brian felt it too.  
  
"You won't lose me." He nuzzled his head into the crook of the other's neck.  
  
"Promise?" Mike shuddered, as Brian's voice, low and warm, sounded at his ear; at the fele of Brian's fingertips running lightly down his back...  
  
"Promise."  
  
*** 


End file.
